This morning I called Berta, Antúnez’s sister, and she related to me the chilling conversation Orlando Zapata Tamayo’s mother, Reina, had with an official from State Security.
“Reina, I have good news and bad news. The good: your son has been taken to a hospital. The bad: he is very serious.”
It is cruel, vile and despicable to say that to a mother. They must be ruthless, lazy and stupid to let a human being die of hunger. And they must be very, extremely, diabolical to take the life of a man for his principles.
In his death is all the shame of these fifty-one years the paranoid, silenced, terrorized, lost, drowned and frozen to death. It is the howl of three generations, who were lost and who forgot about the marvelous word that contains so much: freedom. It is the legacy of this absurdly long Cuban revolution: our principles killed, or kill he who fights for them.
Today is a day of mourning. My one desire is that tomorrow, when February 23 comes around each year in the calendar, the entire country honors it as a day of national mourning.
Garcia Lorca lamented Ignacio Sanchez Mejias, of a stenching silence, of a river with sweet mists and deep shores, of One creasing the shroud, of no one terrifying the serpent; so now we shout our plaint for Orlando Zapata Tamayo, but who will hear it? Not them.
Raul Castro Squandered His Last Chance
-
14ymedio, Generation Y, Yoani Sanchez, Havana, 22 March 2017 — A year ago
Cuba had a once in a lifetime opportunity. US President Barack Obama came
to the ...
Read Ivan Garcia on TranslatingCuba.com
-
Or you can read all of Ivan’s posts by clicking here. Readers: Given the
explosion of writers now being translated by TranslatingCuba.com, to make
our wo...
Under the Umbrella of Jose Marti / Fernando Damaso
-
Fernando Damaso, 5 February 2016 — A few days ago the 2nd International
With All and For the Good of All Conference was held in Havana, a
government activi...
Gratitude / Miriam Celaya
-
Though I’m several days behind, I get to access my blog to publicly thank
all friends and the media who remained attentive and concerned for
us during the ...
No, No and No Raul Castro
-
This I believe is the second or third occasion that I write to you, and as
always without the least mood or desire that you answer me, because given
the ab...
Another Ship Bound for Korea / Henry Constantin
-
I have been to Korea a couple of times and the memory of it feels like a
weight on my chest. People there work from sunup for a monthly salary that
only ge...
2nd of November-Day of the Dead / Ricardo Medina
-
The Commemoration of the 2nd of November as All Souls Day, did not arise
suddenly. Since the 7th century, the Archbishop of Seville, Saint Isidoro
(560-63...
Survey on Government Economic Measures
-
The group Veritas of Psychosocial Investigations received a request from
the Center of Socio-Economic and Democratic Studies (CESED) to carry out a
public ...
Hoes
-
Photos: Francis Sanchez I went shopping in search of a hoe. Perhaps it was
suddenly suggested to me by the partisan propaganda which always lays a
guilt t...
The End
-
I’ve never liked goodbyes. Like just about everyone I suppose. But only
because we give a normal act, part of what it is to live, an especially
gloomy conn...
Justice for Rolando
-
Rolando is a great man, father, brother and friend. His incarceration just
as he was prepared to bring people, including his family, but he was not
willing...
Prisoner in Canaletas on Hunger Strike
-
For an audio recording of Pedro’s phone call dictating this post, CLICK
HERE The 43-year-old prisoner Rene Valle Ibarra, also known as “El Bimbo”,
who is f...
At the Wrong Place at the Wrong Time
-
At around 9 PM this past Friday, May 21st, I bumped into a friend of mine
on 23rd and G street as I was on my way to my mother’s house. He told me
that he...
Sunday Anguish
-
On Sundays, in the late afternoon, I feel a recurring unease. It begins
with a slight, imperceptible tingling in the stomach, then a heaviness in
the arm...
14 years ago
Solidarity
Jorge Luis García Pérez (Antúnez)
Followers
Links
Please click over to the Spanish language (original) site for links to other blogs. There's a hot link at the top of this column.
This is an excerpt to a version of the song, Epitaph for Vladimir Visotski by Karsmarski Jacek (Polish dissident songwriter), which includes Ciro Diaz in his latest album, The Blue Slug, that I listened to compulsively for at least two months, especially on the street with my mp3 inherited from a friend who now has an I-pod. (Download the lyrics here) (Download the recording and album cover here) The song (in summary, which runs about ten minutes) is about a desperate artist going through the circles of hell in search of an answer or death, and at the end of his journey there is only loneliness and the weight of the supreme power above himself. So I found myself at times catching the bus across Havana at 12 noon in August under the perennial sunshine and with the distressing feeling of not going anywhere, or arriving too late, or going for pleasure ... I feel that I have already arrived at the eighth enclosure (this is the finale of the song) where there is nothing, and I feel useless and empty, and I look at people without faith who walk along the street and who have so much fear that they no longer know they're afraid, and who have seen so many Roundtables and so many news broadcasts that they no longer know what belongs to reality or just to the TV screen. They cannot discern that they no longer believe, but cannot disbelieve either, and just move along past me not going anywhere.
Posts
1 comment:
Garcia Lorca lamented Ignacio Sanchez Mejias,
of a stenching silence, of a river with sweet mists
and deep shores, of One creasing the shroud, of no one
terrifying the serpent; so now we
shout our plaint
for Orlando Zapata Tamayo, but who will hear it? Not them.
Post a Comment